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"cognizance" poems
Static, memories Emanating, separating   The postcard- perfect Still life speaks From its storied past. Invisible, to drift Among   The florid aphorisms, Ending in Deleterious debris, Aftermath of The inevitable. Empty room, echo hollow Tabula rasa - Carpet clean, quite candid in it's Return to callow. Consciousness athirst, Absorbing phenomena Effervesce, inquisitive Ideas foment, Sealed inside a question. The what - Against the narrow Scarcity, And fatigue of should. A tender malleable Youth, Betrayed, under An assumed decorum - Residue of truth, Flattened emotion Privations of a self Unheard; Misplaced affirmation, Buried pathologies   In architecture Fear manifests symbolic. Harboring apathy The lunacy of pious Pedigree, Import contagion, Fetters of benignity Doubt and indecision   Into ****** Cognizance, Fallow spirits Seep fumes of decay, Credulity bleeds a human stain. Social edifice, inoculated   Heirs of neurosis; Palpable, sensual pain And transience, though Tacit - remain, Our haunted history, The blind hyperbole, Maudlin Forbearance, this haven, A portrait Of immaculate condition, Nurtured with precision Under sterling pretense. Provincial domicile - House beautiful, Savage irony - Unseen treasure Innocence unabridged, Faces, tiny creations; Compliant vessels Wounded,   While modernism murmurs   Its promise. Brave New World, In a late model sedan, Domestic ranch on a Corner lot, Suburban natives, Silence means security. The misunderstood Speak louder - Consumerism beneath     Unvarnished ambition, Never could Repair the brokenness within... © 2011 & 2018 W. S. Warner
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Oct 20, 2011
Oct 20, 2011 at 5:38 PM UTC
Hollow
Static, memories Emanating, separating   The postcard- perfect Still life speaks From its storied past. Invisible, to drift Among   The florid aphorisms, Ending in Deleterious debris, Aftermath of The inevitable. Empty room, echo hollow Tabula rasa - Carpet clean, quite candid in it's Return to callow. Consciousness athirst, Absorbing phenomena Effervesce, inquisitive Ideas foment, Sealed inside a question. The what - Against the narrow Scarcity, And fatigue of should. A tender malleable Youth, Betrayed, under An assumed decorum - Residue of truth, Flattened emotion Privations of a self Unheard; Misplaced affirmation, Buried pathologies   In architecture Fear manifests symbolic. Harboring apathy The lunacy of pious Pedigree, Import contagion, Fetters of benignity Doubt and indecision   Into ****** Cognizance, Fallow spirits Seep fumes of decay, Credulity bleeds a human stain. Social edifice, inoculated   Heirs of neurosis; Palpable, sensual pain And transience, though Tacit - remain, Our haunted history, The blind hyperbole, Maudlin Forbearance, this haven, A portrait Of immaculate condition, Nurtured with precision Under sterling pretense. Provincial domicile - House beautiful, Savage irony - Unseen treasure Innocence unabridged, Faces, tiny creations; Compliant vessels Wounded,   While modernism murmurs   Its promise. Brave New World, In a late model sedan, Domestic ranch on a Corner lot, Suburban natives, Silence means security. The misunderstood Speak louder - Consumerism beneath     Unvarnished ambition, Never could Repair the brokenness within... © 2011 & 2018 W. S. Warner
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84
i am much younger than i am my hair is dark and thick instead of pruned bald i am lean and meek feeling hollow as if weightless we are at an airport with no memory of getting there i had left my hotel room urgently in a jacket that is not mine i can't find my Swedish wife whom i miss like a panicked child and my Asian wife whom i've never never met before and know all to well is angry and could care less if i got lost forever i am going home to my parents house i remember that they are dead but we had just spoken there will be soup and Hors d'oeuvre's they wait for me on my way the streets and boulevards are unfamiliar yet old hat and no matter how long i walk i can never find their house located somewhere in Brooklyn on Haze street in San Francisco i have a business and retain no idea of what i do i left my cloths somewhere and i don't know why in a locality i cant remember for a reason that doesn't exist a beautiful woman smiles offers me *** she is friends with a girlfriend whom i'm committed too but do not know and never met i want to cheat with her but guilty kisses will ruin everything so i turn away murdering desire in an already anchor-less miasma i remember a past my life a continuum of disjointed vagaries tears well up i fear myself a figment a bodiless revenant stranded in a fog sparkles and smoke incandescence and shrouds a dis-junctured soul that clutches memories like braids of dust living in the eye of nothing a labyrinth of shades lighted by the sun of cognizance a wretched phantom transparent husk living a dark fiction my grave a womb i am the dead living
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Aug 26, 2017
Aug 26, 2017 at 10:27 AM UTC
*REVENEANT
i am much younger than i am my hair is dark and thick instead of pruned bald i am lean and meek feeling hollow as if weightless we are at an airport with no memory of getting there i had left my hotel room urgently in a jacket that is not mine i can't find my Swedish wife whom i miss like a panicked child and my Asian wife whom i've never never met before and know all to well is angry and could care less if i got lost forever i am going home to my parents house i remember that they are dead but we had just spoken there will be soup and Hors d'oeuvre's they wait for me on my way the streets and boulevards are unfamiliar yet old hat and no matter how long i walk i can never find their house located somewhere in Brooklyn on Haze street in San Francisco i have a business and retain no idea of what i do i left my cloths somewhere and i don't know why in a locality i cant remember for a reason that doesn't exist a beautiful woman smiles offers me *** she is friends with a girlfriend whom i'm committed too but do not know and never met i want to cheat with her but guilty kisses will ruin everything so i turn away murdering desire in an already anchor-less miasma i remember a past my life a continuum of disjointed vagaries tears well up i fear myself a figment a bodiless revenant stranded in a fog sparkles and smoke incandescence and shrouds a dis-junctured soul that clutches memories like braids of dust living in the eye of nothing a labyrinth of shades lighted by the sun of cognizance a wretched phantom transparent husk living a dark fiction my grave a womb i am the dead living
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62
Sacred fires burning bright Purging the flesh of my being Becoming one with the light Scorching the cells of my mortal body 4 Illuminate 3 the masses 4 Self-immolate 3 to ashes 1 break 3 conciousness 4 cosmic I lapse 3 death cleanses 8 dissipate into the nether 4 essence of life 3 extinguished 4 the chains that bind 3 relinquished 1 Pain 3 Surging through 4 Serenity 3 Gleaming blaze I, long to be cosmic, dissipate into illumination To, become the nether - to lapse in lost consciousness Then I shoot off in space and time, soaring through illusions Light years from reality, distant pixels 8 Obsessing through the tesseract, 6 scouring past illusions 7 beyond spatiality, 4 distant pixels Drifting, no sense or feel Flames of color, figments of my creation Drift in-to the surreal, Chasing fractals defragments my cognition Dreaming in discordance Life confined in simulation A glitch in the matrix Lies conceived through my perception Breathe I, long to be spectral, fluctuate right through this oscilation To, attain the ether - planetary cognizance Then I shoot off in space and time, soaring through illusions Light years from reality, distant pixels Obsessing through the tesseract, scouring past illusions beyond spatiality, distant pixels Drifting, no sense or feel Flash of colors, figments of my creation Drift in-to the surreal, Chasing fractals defragments my cognition Dreaming in discordance Life confined in simulation A glitch in the matrix Lies conceived through my perception Breathe
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Jul 12, 2015
Jul 12, 2015 at 5:46 PM UTC
A Glitch in the Matrix
Sacred fires burning bright Purging the flesh of my being Becoming one with the light Scorching the cells of my mortal body 4 Illuminate 3 the masses 4 Self-immolate 3 to ashes 1 break 3 conciousness 4 cosmic I lapse 3 death cleanses 8 dissipate into the nether 4 essence of life 3 extinguished 4 the chains that bind 3 relinquished 1 Pain 3 Surging through 4 Serenity 3 Gleaming blaze I, long to be cosmic, dissipate into illumination To, become the nether - to lapse in lost consciousness Then I shoot off in space and time, soaring through illusions Light years from reality, distant pixels 8 Obsessing through the tesseract, 6 scouring past illusions 7 beyond spatiality, 4 distant pixels Drifting, no sense or feel Flames of color, figments of my creation Drift in-to the surreal, Chasing fractals defragments my cognition Dreaming in discordance Life confined in simulation A glitch in the matrix Lies conceived through my perception Breathe I, long to be spectral, fluctuate right through this oscilation To, attain the ether - planetary cognizance Then I shoot off in space and time, soaring through illusions Light years from reality, distant pixels Obsessing through the tesseract, scouring past illusions beyond spatiality, distant pixels Drifting, no sense or feel Flash of colors, figments of my creation Drift in-to the surreal, Chasing fractals defragments my cognition Dreaming in discordance Life confined in simulation A glitch in the matrix Lies conceived through my perception Breathe
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65
homeland security on these nuts home land security in your butts home land security look but don't touch it's too much for 'em to understand ***** jacker **** in hand hatin' big wacker on tha attacker i like 'em blacker she's a ***** packer don't like 'em battered spell bound brain washed what's tha matter? Homeland Security Act homeland security tryin' ta scare why can't tha government care? socialist ideals not tryin' to hear hippie gal tryin' ta spread peace until the cognizance cease down with tha **** come in your hair tryin' ta do me long they can't take it down ya know they messin' around neo-con trick tryin' ta make brunette sick don't they like the way i hold my **** maybe i wanna take a lick lyin' bitchin' wichin' cryin' like a man's supposed to be dyin' look at 'em fryin'. sorcery zap to the court-ordered goofs snitchin' doin' bad things mad federal schemes they all occultic fiends with yo mama church as the ball swings ** **** on me mother **** the holy see what ya tryin' to be ....holy? goons, screws, pigs and spooks sayin cognizance aint to use poor court ordered goofs so-abused papists vowed in their delusions of grandeur all you supposed ta think ...is white cop expendable masses they say aint allowed ta know while they call the pope pop guardian protectors of tha white bred they wanna make tha people brain dead feds frivolous threats tha number on your badge says zero what you tryin' to be? A super hero?
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Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 5:52 PM UTC
Homeland Security
I find myself and I feel myself slowly falling down into your gaze, but is this right? is this okay? It's everything I'm afraid of, everything I'm unsure of. . . Am I? Am I even good enough? to grow with you, to move with you, to just be- with you, in harmony? to ebb and flow- its hard ya know..? to take the good with the bad, not many can handle that. it's a long, hard road paved by patience with diligence, allegiance, and constant cognizance; that's not to mention pure intent, unconditional love, and always going beyond and above... is this.. could this.. could this be what we're capable of? when I think of the possibilities, the places we can go, the faces we'll see, the some that we'll know, the many opportunities. . . w      o      a      h the thought; it ties my stomach in knots the tension; its so easily broken like a button upon cloth held by a thread SNAP I'm a wreck... and its just waiting to happen like the many times before.. I can't, you can't, we can't they all end in divorce.. oh sweet, sweet discourse who knows, I can't predict the future, but what I do know is that you may be the one to sway me but only I can save me from myself.. and the last thing I'd do is ask you for any type of help so give me the time I need and maybe it'll be everly after happy!
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Sep 30, 2018
Sep 30, 2018 at 7:49 PM UTC
To Affinity and Beyond
"When a person is born it's a blessed time, Albeit a person is in love it's a splendid era, When that person perishes it is a bereaved era, Albeit Love of two people expires it's a cataclysm, Vestige as we used to sit there on the littoral, As the dusk of the winds would blow the sand, The sand pursues into your long black hair, Visage your dark green eyes and a beauty of a smile, All times I have enjoyed greatly also suffered greatly, Times you loved me and alone on the shore, It is an perpetual power that as my utopia, Is me ichorous of our love moments together, Afore us lies the port and a skimming ocean liner, As we slowly see an alluvion gloom in the darkness, Legions of souls drudged here in day and night, Above gusting drifts the rainy constellation of stars, As we gambol in our fervor of cognizance of love in our Utopia Ichorous" By Andrew Guzaldo 08/03/2018 © Posted HP/
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Aug 3, 2018
Aug 3, 2018 at 10:10 PM UTC
“UTOPIA ICHOROUS”
Mandatory ignorance Enforced through early cognizance Until we come to recompense Serrated lines of quote "logic" Complicit as an etiquette Preemptive nondivergence threads United though we bow our heads Suspension stasis animus Alarming lack of sapience Vendetted waking populace Intrinsics lost to "evidence" Orphans to our mother Earth Regressive ****** immigrants Staggering seductions ways Lethargic lecherous hedonist craze Ambrosia brown to black tar goes Vivacious love to skanky *** Entropy or as that goes Remorse I say might have some pros Solemnly a lie you know Empathy not lost on me Retracting threats though not my thing Epiphany perchance to sing Nocturnal beasts of legend spring Damnation comes to every fiend Innocuous solutions seen Perception slanted serpentine Impressions sit supplanters quit The jury rarely gives a **** Yet here Im relating it
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May 11, 2014
May 11, 2014 at 1:34 PM UTC
**** mustache
Call me to the mountains once more, Oh sweet, murmuring gusts, And remind me who I am. Sweep up my laughing toes to the tops Of these proud outcrops Then give my breath to the dome When after looking out, I see my city, But not my home. Bring forth the rich perfumes of startling everything-ness from the valleys, And after I have drunk the proud skirts of these verdurous hills, Let your sweet touch guide me up, and pin my head to my scoping bed. Then hush, let me be as I espy My gentle, distant, giant lovers, Dependably rising from the East, with supernal gossiping for my cognizance alone. Let me imbibe their wisdom until all my queries and qualms slip from my eyes, dissolving into secrets and thanks beyond measure. One last request, my swift-flowing friend, Wipe these wet lessons from my face And carry their essence to the edge To Karman, And meet the angel who waits without air To carry my cosmic missives there
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Sep 21, 2012
Sep 21, 2012 at 5:54 AM UTC
Instructions for Wind
One of the most humorous conditions that a creature could burden itself with is a somnambulant desire to be to it’s own liking . Maxillary extrapolation although a positive political expectorant is likewise a practical partiality . I prefer to  be philanthropically phenological although rational impedance is my histophysiology .  My present participle is practical pragmatism and tertiary transcendentalism .  Xenoplasticly speaking I feel alone but plausibility is a probationer in reflective self awareness .  Atrociously impetuous I proceeded amidst heinously horrendous heckledom .  Adequate inflection is a relevant relative to retaliatory regression but I digress .  Paraphernalia is a practitioner to plausibility’s cause and should be assimilated through cognizance  not perfunctory preferentialism . Hegelian humanitarianism must supersede political subterfugalism or all may be lost in quagmire .
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Jul 24, 2014
Jul 24, 2014 at 3:48 AM UTC
Paraphernalia
My greatest fear is that my mind will become languid all these nerves that buzz and fill will someday become a vegetable somnolent times will set upon me a spell from which I cannot recover lazily and languorously I shall dwell an intellect without vigour too much comfort too much praise too much ease shall push me off the cliff of complacency and I shall fall without cognizance a mental suicide, awareness in deep freeze a hardened blank consciousness that needs to be broken through excavated from a  grave of self-righteousness pushed beyond self-set limits melted until the core is seen I need to feel the pain and hurt cry briny tears and experience grief need to feel unsure undecided obscure myself in anxiety make sure the inner ocean stays unfrozen - Vijayalakshmi Harish         12.09.2012 Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
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Sep 12, 2012
Sep 12, 2012 at 4:35 AM UTC
Axing the Frozen Sea
I go to public places to be alone... I sit amongst the crowds, listen in to their instigating alluring words, Exhaust myself with the false pretense of social-comfort And think about death. As it has always been and how it will always be- More potent than human interest, temptation, enticement or fulfillment. In the depths of these crowds I surround myself with The culture of the unconscious. Nothing has ever mattered but the collected cognizance of The fact that no human being has the internal ability to become immortal- And nobody who belongs to the crowds worries about that. As, To be comfortably existent means to be uninformed about your own Insignificance. When I am aware of my own body I am more afraid than when I am not. I watch myself from a blackening screen, as I destroy what I was born into until it becomes A habit instilled within both perspectives. I let the crowds ruin me with glances and words and drunken love That they will not remember. I exist as a vessel, and let the pain of my future determine the pain of My present. I seek to hide within the dark of a night like this that has experienced my absence and enjoyed it but, Their glances make me feel so present... ..I can only hide within myself by pretending that I am outside of myself.. Watching from a blackening screen...
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Oct 22, 2014
Oct 22, 2014 at 5:55 AM UTC
Party boy
have you ever noticed anything that sent you spinning off into the empty infinity of blossoming cognizance? pupils dilate, sweat beads, words collapse back into what they imply; we only know because we watched the footage. yes, we watched it together and yes, it is the only father figure that pays for her own dinner these days. i wish i was worth forgetting in the future. i wish people didnt feel they had to be anything but here. i wish people would teach their children about how i could market loose teeth to coastlines. im laughing at your puzzled aura from the next epochal shift. (man enters and exits stage right, nervously) it's deep is a depth but really nonsense.
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Nov 10, 2018
Nov 10, 2018 at 7:36 AM UTC
the great mystery was just a headache
Sacred fires burning bright Purging the flesh of my being Becoming one with the light Scorching the cells of my mortal body lluminate The masses Self-immolate To ashes Break, Conciousness Cosmic I lapse - Death cleanses; Dissipate into the nether Essence of life Extinguished The chains that bind Relinquished Pain ~ Surging through Serenity; Gleaming blaze Then I shoot off in space and time, soaring through illusions Light years from reality, Distant pixels Obsessing through the tesseract, Scouring past illusions Beyond spatiality, Distant pixels Drifting, no sense or feel Flames of color, figments of my creation Drift in to the surreal; Chasing fractals, defragments my cognition Dreaming in discordance Life confined in simulation A glitch in the matrix~ Lies conceived through my perception; Breathe I, long to be spectral, fluctuate right through this oscilation To, obtain the ether - Planetary cognizance Then I shoot off in space and time, soaring through illusions Light years from reality, distant pixels Obsessing through the tesseract, Scouring past illusions beyond spatiality, distant pixels Drifting, no sense or feel Flames of color, figments of my creation Drift in to the surreal; Chasing fractals, defragments my cognition Dreaming in discordance Life confined in simulation A glitch in the matrix~ Lies conceived through my perception; Breathe
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Dec 19, 2018
Dec 19, 2018 at 1:02 AM UTC
Dreaming in Discordance
tried and true, this pain is not new, I welcome it like a friend, I seem to know, but never show, the cognizance of my own end. kicking and screaming, the sun stops gleaming, but i know of the ocean's fare. the lighthouse is dying, the stratus are crying, I am stripped down and left to bare. bandage to wound, with red seeping through, I stand on broken toes. but no one is there, not a sound in the air, and I remain alone with only my woes.
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Mar 2, 2015
Mar 2, 2015 at 5:52 AM UTC
Untitled
Star Light, Star Bright First star I see tonight I wish I may, I wish I might For a new beginning apres tonight A new DAWN, a new hope One with an illuminated scope Halting our slide, down this slippery slope And freeing us from this encumbering rope The new dawn, of a new consciousness This creation of a critical mass cognizance This genesis, of  a collective awareness That is filled with LOVE and fairness Star Light, Star Bright I see no stars tonight I wish I may, I wish I might That I share my light with humanity tonight (c) 2012 Shawn White Eagle
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Dec 21, 2012
Dec 21, 2012 at 12:05 AM UTC
Star Bright
When an illusion becomes a reality The whole idea of existence is shrouded In the mysterious clues we are given Unearthed from the remains ancient Many hypotheses which float around Mystic lands which once existed So many exposed to the light of day Many more still cradled within the layers Many interpretations, ancient chronicles Dates back to time immemorial Many sources and many more tales The soul of the scripts lost long ago None will come to know the real sentiments Mired in the deepest secrets of yesteryear Historians’ favorite child, philosophers guide We can only come up with our understanding Spend a lifetime deciphering between the lines Many centuries of hidden anecdotes We can only reconstruct what we decipher We may not be close to the real meaning The custodians have whisked away the heart And soul of the entire episodes Leaving us between the vagueness Papyrus holds the words, without the meanings Not sure of the real feelings and emotions Maybe a rendezvous with the chroniclers If we can travel back in time And enter the ethereal world of these histories Can reveal the truth and exact sentiments Till that time, we have to live with our inferences Maybe we are way off the mark In a different trajectory, away from the core An illusion we may have created form our cognizance
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Mar 13, 2015
Mar 13, 2015 at 7:20 AM UTC
Illusion and Reality
Teach your child to plant a tree than pluck one that was never her own entity but its own Teach your child to make a painting of a flower as a gift than give a bouquet that will die soon or instead teach her to give a sapling that will grow into a memory which will hold much power Teach your child to question than cower to vain rules and illogic that steal her playful affection and her artless frolic Teach your child to climb trees before the ladders to supreme echelon Teach her that when she collapses she must stand up with grace and poise like the shining sun for after the night is done laying its darkness it rises again the sun Teach your child the colors of mankind Yellow or Orange Red or Brown Black or White to accept each one everyone without the division of vanity of power or a crown Teach your child to create her own meaning of Love Teach her to listen to the story of every tear that bears grief and to speak aloud to bespeak wisdom and virtue in brief Teach your child about the freedom in and of the mind before she rebels to venture outside with people who care less about her kind but more about filling the space on a car seat Teach your child to believe in possibilities and have faith in the certainties of unlocking mysteries Teach her to fuel her curiosities Teach your child values that were not taught to the crowd then you will stand a mother full and proud.
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Aug 18, 2018
Aug 18, 2018 at 11:17 AM UTC
Cognizance.
Time is my lover; my companion. She has revealed to me the sacred secrets of the world. Captivated by her beauty and insight I have become fascinated by her existence. I came to realize long ago, in the eons of my metamorphosis that she is the only one I can trust… I take solace in this. One cannot be led astray with love and time. The blossoms and lilies are blooming amongst the tightly packed soil of the terrene. I am efflorescing as well… Time has revealed this to me. My heart is a celestial body amongst celestial bodies, illuminating the darkness and chaos ravaging the Earth. I am a luminescent ruby shining red hot with passion; I have a fervor that shall not be diminished by the vitriol of a single malefactor. I am united in spirit and soul with The One whom has redeemed me from sin and death. My light is my hope; I have power when I am shining as brightly as the Sun. Epiphanies are ever present in this vicissitude of my life. I prayerfully await more growth beckoning me from just over the horizon. The Sun has beseeched me to sanctify His name through melodious song. I become less and less of a vestige as each sunset approaches. My spirit is my cocoon. I shall pray for more efflorescence as the Great Day approaches. My soul is flowering forth with ebullience and a deep tranquility that no one can take away from me. I shall rest my faith in my cognizance of the might I possess. Today is my rebirth and the Phoenix has bestowed upon me its benediction. To have newfound life breathed into your nostrils; words cannot express the jubilation, the ecstasy that has arisen in my soul as a result of this. I have been fortified and from this day forth, I shall no longer relinquish my right to joy and prosperity. May the Lord of Blissful Joy awaken in you also, the cognizance of the might you possess. -Amen- By, Iridescently Efflorescent
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Aug 8, 2012
Aug 8, 2012 at 11:50 PM UTC
Mother Time (Lovely Efflorescence)(Written August 8th, 2012)
Time is my lover; my companion. She has revealed to me the sacred secrets of the world. Captivated by her beauty and insight I have become fascinated by her existence. I came to realize long ago, in the eons of my metamorphosis that she is the only one I can trust… I take solace in this. One cannot be led astray with love and time. The blossoms and lilies are blooming amongst the tightly packed soil of the terrene. I am efflorescing as well… Time has revealed this to me. My heart is a celestial body amongst celestial bodies, illuminating the darkness and chaos ravaging the Earth. I am a luminescent ruby shining red hot with passion; I have a fervor that shall not be diminished by the vitriol of a single malefactor. I am united in spirit and soul with The One whom has redeemed me from sin and death. My light is my hope; I have power when I am shining as brightly as the Sun. Epiphanies are ever present in this vicissitude of my life. I prayerfully await more growth beckoning me from just over the horizon. The Sun has beseeched me to sanctify His name through melodious song. I become less and less of a vestige as each sunset approaches. My spirit is my cocoon. I shall pray for more efflorescence as the Great Day approaches. My soul is flowering forth with ebullience and a deep tranquility that no one can take away from me. I shall rest my faith in my cognizance of the might I possess. Today is my rebirth and the Phoenix has bestowed upon me its benediction. To have newfound life breathed into your nostrils; words cannot express the jubilation, the ecstasy that has arisen in my soul as a result of this. I have been fortified and from this day forth, I shall no longer relinquish my right to joy and prosperity. May the Lord of Blissful Joy awaken in you also, the cognizance of the might you possess. -Amen- By, Iridescently Efflorescent
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26
*I hanker myself to find illumination within myself. The more  I  explore, the more  I confront the ineluctable iniquity. Being cognizant of my enmity, I wish to be ignoramus of myself.*
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Jul 25, 2015
Jul 25, 2015 at 1:12 PM UTC
........ cognizance of me......
Words bolt out but no ears hear, Bending vowels of drained attention. She smiles in racing blossom intervals, the atmospheres of bending bludgeons. But still I am in love with her, fool me. He who talks without lips moving. See the juvenile mouth extrapolating to judgements faulting into aching. I wonder, well sometimes I do think, what fashionable jungle I'm to be? After all, she finds life too busy to wonder long about such as me. Immobile with soundless ambition, the rocks grow but not in splendour. So this is how it must convert to action, that she succeeds where I blunder. Oh well, so that is how it will coexist, with words drained and solitary existing. "Be robust" I murmur to myself, with heart closed and cognizance brooding. "Goodbye, my former fellow traveller!". I am off to request novel occupations. You your way, and I, unhappily waving. Exhalations the only sound which cheapens.
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Nov 2, 2014
Nov 2, 2014 at 11:28 AM UTC
Goodbye, My Former Fellow Traveller
When my body is broiled with the crispening macabre glean of anxiety; I imagine myself to be a buoying loaf of cornbread in a torrent sea of acid. my custard colored crust being licked away by the ravenous maw of the current, this is no terrain for a loaf of cornbread in the first place. Ludicrous. Perhaps if I joined the sun swept crystal island of idealism, I could be drenched in honey and bound frivolously in nectarous orchard fields. But then, even here, I suppose a Raven may spot me and adorned with a vulturous sneer gobble me up in my blissful state there. So where shall my pappy crumbling loaf of an existence reside? In the trenches of unbridled realization, lapping me up in a despair riddled prison? Or the land of beatitude and glee unfettered from the brutalizing truths of reality... Perhaps there's some bridging ground between these two polar opposites... but how should I know? I'm merely a cornbread I can't declare cognizance.
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Feb 23, 2017
Feb 23, 2017 at 11:09 PM UTC
Cornbread Anxiety
We were once all agog for the journey of life Now just a mouse click leaves curiosity cured Nescience masquerading as artificial cognizance is rife Likes, follows, comments, thoughts and prayers lured A slayer of ambition gave birth to the lazy No will to work, no will to think, just click this link And complain all day about how your life is crazy Stare at the screen as if forgotten how to blink Welcome to Medusa's social media inc. Share every feeling that's on your mind Arachne's weaving web now interlinks A Giger painting has become mankind It's embarrassing It's depressing It's caressing It's inheriting The natural beauty that lies outside Left only viewed through filtered photos Language devolved into hieroglyphic emoji replies Tobler's ambition left reposed Curiosity and ambition subdued A final word Adieu
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Jul 3, 2018
Jul 3, 2018 at 2:37 PM UTC
Erotomechanics VIII
prayer is the coins to buy bread and it is upto the shopkeeper to giv us without. prayer is the school going child to get cognizance by opening the books and sometimes without them too. prayer covers the distance between heaven and earth. prayer makes God happy and removes His wrath upon us.
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Jul 18, 2014
Jul 18, 2014 at 7:00 PM UTC
Prayer